Plague by Jo Macauley

Author:Jo Macauley [Macauley, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Curious Fox
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven - Kidnapped!

John, Beth and Ralph sat on the floor of Mott’s attic, their backs against the bare brick wall, their legs sticking straight out in front of them. Their hands had been tied up behind their backs and Mott had been none too gentle doing it. Loops of cruelly tight, prickly hemp rope dug into Beth’s wrists.

The attic was a cramped, narrow space, barely fit for habitation. The ceiling sloped diagonally down on both sides to meet the floor, with bare wooden props holding it up. The trap door, now closed, took up most of the room’s centre portion. At one dingy end of the room was Mott’s bed and the door; at the other, the empty space where the three of them now sat beneath a single grimy window.

“Who sent you?” Robert Mott demanded.

Behind him, his accomplice – the owner of the pale skinny arms that had grabbed at Ralph – clutched a pencil and paper, ready to write down the confessions that Mott was itching to beat out of them. The man looked pasty-faced and sick. Beth couldn’t tell if it was the plague, the result of the same brutality Mott had shown to the three of them, or outright terror. Mott had called the man Leighton in a moment of anger, and Jack when he had calmed down: so, Jack Leighton. He must be JL from the paper. In spite of their predicament, Beth couldn’t help feeling pleased – that only left LB unaccounted for on the mysterious list...

Not that finding another conspirator helps us right now if Mott wants to kill us, she thought. And he’ll make us talk first if he can.

“I sneaked in on a dare!” Ralph was whining. “I don’t know these two! Please, mister, you’ve got to let me go!”

“Liar,” Mott sneered. “If you don’t know ’em, why’d you shout for ’em to run and save themselves?”

“You did say you hadn’t seen him before, Rob,” Jack Leighton said cautiously, nodding towards Ralph. “He wasn’t in the Four Swans with the other two, was he?”

Of course – Ralph had been exploring the cellar while John and Beth were upstairs. Mott hadn’t seen his face. It was a threadbare gambit, but Beth prayed it might pay off. Especially if Leighton was as reluctant to shed blood as he seemed.

“Who cares if he weren’t?” Mott yelled, rounding on his accomplice. “What’s one less brat on the streets of London anyway?”

“W-we can’t kill him if he’s innocent,” Leighton insisted.

“You can’t have a revolution without spilling a bit of innocent blood!” Mott snarled. “And look at the company he keeps. Look at this lying little wretch.” He pulled John’s hair back hard, and Beth flinched.

“Robert, for pity’s sake, they’re just youngsters—!”

“Make yourself useful, you bloody fool, and go and fetch my carving knife,” Mott snarled. “I’ll soon have this one telling all he knows.”

Beth glanced anxiously over at John, and she could see he was trying not to give any sign of how terrified he must be.

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